


Blood of the Strong

by MissE



Series: Slayer vs Stargate [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-16
Updated: 2011-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissE/pseuds/MissE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SG1 are introduced to the wonderful world of magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heaven and Hell, Predator and Prey

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Stargate

He didn't have to watch her. He knew how she moved. Even in daylight, when she was doing nothing more important than grocery shopping, even then she moved with unearthly fluidity. Now, it was night time, her favourite time, and she was on the hunt. No aimless prowl for random vamps. No, she was hunting, and heaven help her prey, because he sure as hell wouldn't.

He didn't have to watch the humans, either. He knew they were under observation. They always were. Hell, he'd watch a hot blonde slinking along beside a shaggy pirate, if only so that he knew where NOT to be. You didn't have to be smart or trained to know that she was dangerous, and nine out of ten adults seemed to decide his eye patch was too freaky for words. Yep, didn't need to be psychic to know people were watching them.

And yet, it was too strongly ingrained. He didn't have to watch her, and he didn't have to watch the humans, but you couldn't spend your entire adult life (and longer) at war without being aware of everything and everyone. The bouncer watching them from the club entrance, across the street and some ten yards north of their position. The couple hurriedly crossing the street as they approached. The man behind them, maybe twenty feet back. There were others, but they were all human, and unlikely to be their predator or prey. They were humans, and therefore too weak to hunt them.

And yet...

They began to turn as they heard a ghost of sound from the man behind. He heard the cough of the firearm, felt the sting of something hit his chest, and flew forward into the fray. Or tried. He saw the barrel swing towards her, and buck slightly as the other man fired. He felt himself falling even as he heard another shot, the second aimed at her. He slumped to the ground as he heard the third shot. She had managed to cover most of the distance by that time, but was now slipping to the ground, arm outstretched, reaching for their attacker. Then darkness took him.


	2. Waking Up

“They're coming back!”

Sam stopped her pacing, and looked at the young brunette. The other woman was strangely calm for a kidnapee, especially since she had only come out of her tranquilliser hangover a few hours ago. The drug they had used had not been easy on them, and she had a feeling that the kidnappers had set their doses for a large adult male, who would require more to take down, and who would metabolise the drug quicker than a female. Hence the hangovers.

After a moment, she began to hear their kidnappers approach the door. It opened, and the one with the tranq gun entered the room first, followed by the other man carrying a lithe blonde across his shoulders. He walked a little way into the room before dumping the unconscious woman onto the bare floor. He shrugged a little, as if to relieve his shoulders. “For a little girl, she sure is heavy,” he grumbled. “We better get going – you still owe me. I had to carry the last one in, too, and I want something to eat,” he continued as they left the room. “Not like she's going to be up for a while. Three damn shots...” his voice was cut off by the closing door.

Sam grimaced. If they had shot her three times, this could be very bad. She didn't know the drug they had used, so she didn't know what the lethal dose would be, but three times what would take down a healthy male was well and truly more than she should have received.

They approached the new woman, but the brunette, Dawn, stopped Sam as she was about to check on her. Without getting too close, all Sam could see was that the girl was breathing regularly, which was still a good sign. She wanted to check her heart rate, look for bruises, something. The way the man had just dropped her to the hard floor had been shockingly callous, but Dawn's grip on her wrist meant she couldn't get close.

The new woman's eyes flew open, and Sam started back, gasping. “Fucking idiots,” the woman ground out, then … Honestly, Sam didn't know what she did, but the blonde had somehow gone from flat on her back, stretched out away from them, to on her feet, facing them. It had involved some sort of flip, and maybe a handstand, but it had occurred in a seamless movement that looked more a home in a martial arts movie.

And there was Dawn, grinning at the newcomer. The newcomer that was scowling, and vertical, and how did that happen if she had been hit by three tranquilliser darts only a hour or so ago? It had taken her some six or more hours to even regain consciousness, let alone how long it had taken her to be able to move with any semblance of normalcy, and, just, how?

“For the love of one-eyed carpenters, Dawnie, _tell_ me you didn't break number two!” the blonde demanded.

The other girl scoffed. “Of course I didn't! And they haven't even found it yet! And it's not like -” she broke off suddenly, shifting awkwardly.

“It's not like ...?” the blonde hissed, sliding closer. Sam frowned, but didn't interfere. Dawn looked uncomfortable, not truly scared. “What's it not like, Dawnie? It's not like it was a Tuesday, and you went out without protection?”

“Oh, come on!” Dawn whined. “There was this really cute guy, and it was his only night off.”

“We have talked about this, Dawnie. It's one of the natural laws. Xander attracts scary women, Willow looks good with white hair, your sister has a stick up her arse the size of Poland, and YOU GET KIDNAPPED! No ifs, no buts, you do not leave the house without protection, especially on a Tuesday! And now here I am, and Xander -” she stopped suddenly, as if all the air had been sucked from the room.

“Oh, goddess!” Dawn moaned. “Xander – was he with you? What happened? Gwennie?”

The other woman had stalked off, running her hands over her head. “I'll kill them,” she muttered. “If anything has happened to him, I'll fucking kill them!”

Strangely, Sam couldn't find anything wrong with that statement.


	3. Detectable Differences

Giles absently picked up the phone as he read. “Yes?”

“This is Horton General, we are looking for a Mr Rupert Giles.”

He felt his gut twist as he dropped the files he'd been studying. “This is he,” he responded, his voice strangely calm. “How may I help you?”

“We have a Mr Alexander Harris in our Emergency Department, and you are listed as an emergency contact. We need you to come down and fill out some paperwork regarding his admission.”

“I see. Um... I believe I was not the primary emergency contact. Have you managed to contact his wife, er... Gwenhwyfar Harris?”

“No. We have endeavoured to contact her several times, but her phone is not being answered. Are you able to come down?”

“Yes. That won't be a problem. It may take me an hour or so to get there – I'm not in Oxford at the moment.” He took a breath before going on. “May I ask about Mr Harris' condition?”

“Mr Harris is currently unconscious, but is expected to make a recovery. I will have the paperwork ready for you when you arrive. Just come to the Emergency reception and ask for it.”

“Many thanks. I will be there as soon as I may.”

He replaced the receiver, and considered it for a moment before getting up.

~~~~~

It had taken an hour and a half to get here, and then there had been paperwork to do before they would allow him to see the man he thought of as a son. Finished, he made his way into the room. Xander was sleeping peacefully on one of the beds, curtain half-pulled to afford some privacy. Giles picked up the file hanging from the end of the bed, but soon realised that it held as little information for him as one of his tomes would for the staff at the hospital. He sighed, and sat down to wait for Xander to awaken.

He had lost track of the time when he heard someone cough behind him. Startled, he turned around to see two men displaying badges. “DC Collins, DC Jones,” one introduced. “Mind if we have a word, Mr...”

“Oh, er, Giles. Rupert Giles. Yes. How can I help you?”

“Do you mind if I ask your relationship to Mr Harris, Mr Giles?” DC Collins asked.

“Oh, it's rather complicated,” he began. “I've known Xander since he was in high school, and we have something of a father-son relationship. Also, we are involved in the same organisation – an international NGO. He deals more with the educational side, while I tend to stick with the antiquities side. Do you know what happened to him?”

“Mr Harris and his companion were attacked last night. He was with a blonde woman – would you know who that might be?”

“Oh, dear Lord,” he murmured faintly. “Very fair?” The detective nodded. “That would be his wife, Gwen. She's very nocturnal, likes to go walking at night. He walks with her. What happened? Where is she?”

“According to witnesses, Mr and Mrs Harris were shot as they were walking along the street. Mr Harris was shot once, and collapsed, while Mrs Harris appears to have been shot three times before collapsing, and was then abducted by the shooter in a dark coloured van. Do you know of any reason for someone to abduct Mrs Harris?”

Giles seemed to sink into himself, shaken. “Oh, dear Lord,” he murmured again. “No, no. Why would anyone shoot them?” He looked over to Xander, frowning. “He doesn't look like he's been shot.”

“No, it appears that the assailant used tranquilliser darts. There would be some local bruising, as well as a puncture mark, but no real damage. So you can't think of who would use a tranquilliser gun to knock Mrs Harris out, and then abduct her? This was a very bold crime, Mr Giles.”

When he shook his head, the detective continued. “I have some other questions, if you don't mind?” Giles nodded slightly, so he went on. “Would you happen to recognise the names Samantha Carter or Dawn Summers? That would be Major Samantha Carter, US Air Force, and Dr Dawn Summers, Summers Kalderash Institute?”

“Dawn? Why are you asking about Dawn? Summers Kalderash – that's our organisation. What has happened?”

The detectives exchanged worried looks. “Mrs Harris is actually the third woman to be abducted like this in as many nights. Major Carter on Monday, Dr Summers on Tuesday, and now Mrs Harris. Do you know -” the detective broke off when Xander spoke up.

“Carter... I know that name,” he murmured.

“Xander, my boy! You're awake. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” he complained. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?” Detective Collins asked.

Xander frowned at him, and then looked to Giles, who nodded. He closed his eyes to think, then sighed. “We were walking. There was someone behind us. I was hit by something, but I don't think it was a bullet. It stung. It didn't hurt like I thought it should. I don't know what it was. I saw someone shooting, but it sounded weird. Gwennie -” he groaned. “He shot Gwennie!” His eye shot open, and he looked to Giles, terrified by what he suspected.

“I'm afraid that Gwen is missing,” Giles confirmed. “It seems that she was taken by the person that shot you. From what the detectives have just told me, they may also have taken Dawn, and a Major Carter. Do you know that name?”

“I don't know,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Something about... Sam Carter? Something...” his voice trailed off, thinking. “What can you tell me about this Carter?”

The detective flipped open a notebook. “Major Carter is American, like you. A scientist, actually.” He checked his notes. “Physics... something...”

“Physics... Oh, yeah! Gwen was dragging Dawn to a lecture on Friday by a Dr Sam Carter. Will was going with them. I remember Gwen saying that Dawn was bitching about it because it's science, and so very not her thing, but Gwen was determined to make a girly day out of it. And if you think that makes the women in my life weird,” Xander shook his head, grinning, “you don't know anything!”

DC Collins frowned. “Okay. So last night your wife was taken, the night before, your friend was taken, and the night before that, the scientist that they were planning to see was taken. Can you think of any other connection?”

Xander frowned and rubbed his face roughly. “Let me think. I can give you similarities and differences between Gwen and Dawn – I've known Dawnie since high school, used to babysit her. Ah... They're the same height, give or take, same age... Both scary smart, beautiful, strong, independent women.” He sighed. “Differences... Dawn is dark haired, while Gwen's hair is white. Dawn is set solidly in the humanities, while Gwen's interests are... everywhere. Personalities are very different. Dawn's more excitable, while Gwen can be very pragmatic.” He seemed to drift off for a moment, considering the two women, then shook his head. “What can you tell me about the good doctor? I kind of zoned when Gwennie started talking physics. I certainly wasn't paying attention to anything personal about her.”

“Well, you could apply the same similarities to Major Carter. Very smart, good looking, strong, independent. Older, though, I believe. Quite a bit older.”

“Age might not be a factor. If this person is after beautiful, strong, intelligent women, age might not be so important. After all, if you're after a strong woman, then someone who has made as a Major in 'this man's army,' or Air Force, or whatever, as well as lecturing in other countries about something as tough as physics... Well, that would be one very good definition of a strong woman to me!”

“Well, Mr Harris, you've certainly given us something to think about.” The detective found a business card, and handed it over. “If you think of anything more, don't hesitate to call us.”

Xander nodded, and waited for them to leave. As soon as he was sure they were gone, he turned, wild-eyed, to Giles. “God, Giles! They're gone! Dawnie and Gwennie are gone! What are we going to do? And Will, she was supposed to go to this thing, and Dawnie and Gwennie are already gone, and she might be next, and we have to look after her and -” he stopped when Giles put his hand on the younger man's arm.

“Breathe, Xander. Willow isn't in England, yet. She flies in today, if memory serves. I will call her, Buffy, and Faith, and get them together at the Council headquarters. Buffy and Faith should be able to keep Willow safe, and hopefully we can figure out what has happened, and how to get the girls back.”

Xander groaned. “Buffy is going to freak. We knew yesterday that Dawn was gone – that's why we were out last night. We were trying to find out what happened after she didn't check in yesterday. And now we've lost – shit! – twenty-four hours, and Gwennie is missing.” He started to pant. “I can't lose her, Giles. I can't lose Gwennie. I love her. After all I've lost, I can't lose her as well!”

“We'll find her, Xander. We'll find both of them. We'll figure out who took them, and where, and we'll get them back.”

'We have to,' he added to himself.


	4. Weirdly Weird

Sam looked at the two younger women, concerned. Honestly, she was just waiting for the Twilight Zone music to start up. First, the woman with pure white hair all but levitated into an upright position, then started on some weird diatribe about natural laws and kidnappings, then made an understandable, Sam decided, promise to kill their abductors, and now this.

After a shuddering breath, this new woman, Gwennie, had turned back to face Dawn, and, in a move strangely reminiscent of Jack facing down a Marine, had moved in close. Dawn had even stiffened, much like said Marine giving a report. They were still standing there, though they had looked around the room, to the window, to the door... It was almost like looking at a silent movie, except their lips should be moving... Yes, this was beyond weird.

Finally, Gwennie seemed to relax, and stepped back from Dawn. She ran her hands over her head, and seemed to think for a while. “Okay, we don't have much time. They went out for dinner – takeaway, probably – and I don't know when they will be getting back. We need to strengthen our position here. Hopefully we can be out of here tonight, because, frankly, I don't like any of this.” She turned to the open window, then back to Dawn, raising an eyebrow. Dawn pursed her lips, and shook her head.

Yeah, the open window. Of course Sam had tried it as soon as she had noticed it, and she had noticed it pretty darn quickly. That lovely, tempting, open window, ground floor and everything. That open window that she simply could not get out of. If she didn't know better, she would think it had some form of shielding. She could approach it, get right up to it, but – try as she might – she could not get any part of herself through it. Dawn had tried yesterday, and had found that they could throw things through it, but not people. Darn open window!

“Okay,” Gwennie went on. “Sam, right?”

Hold it. When were they introduced? She nodded, anyway.

“Okay, Sam, you're going to be with Dawn. Look for weapons. My Glock should be around here somewhere, with a shoulder holster. You look like you can handle that, so it's yours until we're safe. You see anything even the slightest unusual, you get Dawn. Don't touch, don't read, don't anything.” She paused for a moment, thinking, then went on, “Also, if you see anything on the floor, patterns, shapes, whether drawn, or painted, or carved... Anything you wouldn't see on insert-favourite-sitcom-mum-here's floor,” she added for clarification, “again, you call Dawn. Don't enter the pattern, don't cross or break any lines, just plain don't. Just take it as said that freakiness abounds in this place. If it looks like something from a Simpsons Halloween Special, stay away, and call Dawn.”

Oh. My. God. Who are these people? Weirdness personified watches the Simpsons? Jack won't be pleased. And let's just skip past the fact she was carrying a Glock around downtown Oxford. Note to self – reserve time for a nervous breakdown when we get out of here.

Gwen had already slipped out of the room, so Sam followed Dawn out. They quickly checked the rooms running down the right side of the hallway (because Dawn said Gwen was covering the left – that conversation was when?), but they didn't find anything. They reached the kitchen a couple of minutes before Gwen, to find a large book open on the table, and Gwen's gun and holster bundled together on a bench. Sam unrolled it and checked the gun, then shrugged into the holster.

“Good, it fits,” Gwen observed.

Sam started. She hadn't heard the other woman enter the room. She was going to have to find out what branch of the services Gwen came from. The woman may be weird, but there had to be some advantages to having someone like her around.

Gwen crossed to the table where Dawn was looking at the book. The brunette moved aside so the blonde could examine the text. “It's in Latin,” Dawn commented, “so that's easy, but they've torn a page out.” She shuddered. “Maybe we should just hand them over to the Council librarians and tell them what they did. Can't be any worse punishment!”

Gwen nodded, grinning fiercely. “I've always liked the way you think.” She tilted her head, thinking. “I know this book, I read it some months ago. Give me a moment,” she murmured as she closed her eyes.

Sam watched as Gwen's eyes flickered under closed lids, and she enacted turning pages. Her hand stilled, and she opened her eyes. “Fuck!”

“Well, I think that rates an 'Oh, dear Lord' on the Giles-o-meter,” Dawn quipped. “So... tell.”

“Two spells,” she sighed. “An empowerment spell, and a resource finding spell.”

Huh? Spells? And... how?

“I take it we're not talking take-back-the-night female type empowerment?” Dawn asked nervously.

“That would be a 'no,'” Gwen replied. “Not quite mayor-into-snake empowerment, but not any fun for us, either. Especially since we're the resources found by the second spell.”

“Hey! Normal person here. Can I get some explanations, please? Like spells, and weird reading of non-existent pages, and windows no-one can get through, and eye talking? What the holy heck is going on here?”

Gwen stared at Sam for a long moment, then turned to Dawn. “People actually talk like that?” she asked in a low voice. “I mean, I don't usually swear, but at least I use real language. Who says 'holy heck'?”

Dawn sniggered. “Gwennie, you're just special. Normal people do actually talk like that. Not all of them, but some really do.”

Gwen gave Dawn a considering look, then turned back to Sam. “So, Sam, what do you do for a living? Military, yes, but what rank and branch of service?”

“What?” Sam squeaked.

“Oh, yeah! 'Cause secretaries act like you do,” Dawn countered. “I mean, you've got that whole ramrod spine thing going on.”

Before Sam could splutter a reply, Gwen … pricked up. Sam had a sudden image of a cat noticing a mouse. The blonde's hand flashed behind her back, and came out with a hunting knife. Damn it! What was she? Jack's long lost daughter?

“They're back,” she murmured as she slipped out of the room.

“Do I get an explanation yet?” Sam asked Dawn.

“Well, magic is real, and Gwen has an eidetic memory. So magic covers spells, barred windows and mind-talking, and the non-page-turning is Gwennie re-reading the book. You know, with her eidetic memory and stuff.”

“Magic.”

“Yep, magic.”

“You know, magic isn't real.”

Dawn looked at her, pityingly. “Which is why we couldn't get out that window.”

“That's … I don't know what that was, but I do know magic isn't real.”

“Okay, just as well Gwen isn't here, 'cause she'd be getting really pissed about now. Magic is real, deal with it. And you really should, because – hey! – you're an ingredient!”

Sam was about to argue when she heard sounds of a scuffle at the front of the house. After a moment, Gwen returned to the kitchen, carrying one man over her shoulder, and dragging the other. She dumped both on the floor, and quickly removed a necklace from each man's neck. She tossed one to Dawn, and was about to toss the other to Sam when Dawn shook her head. Gwen tilted her head, puzzled, but put the necklace over her own head. She then quickly and efficiently tied the men with their own belts. Next, she went through the men's pockets. The wallets, phones, and keys were quickly found and pocketed, but she continued until she had found what looked like the the missing page. She quickly checked it, and stood.

“Okay, let's go,” she instructed, grinning. “Dawn, grab the book. I am not leaving that in their hands.”

Sam followed the two women out to the front door, but when she attempted to walk out through it, she bounced back and landed hard on the floor. She stood up, rubbing her rump, and went back to the door. Incredibly, the door was shielded just as tightly as the window had been. And yet, both girls had walked through it as if there was nothing there.

“What the -” she began.

“There's no such thing as magic, is there?” Dawn interrupted. “If there's no such thing as magic, then why are you still in there?”

Gwen chuckled. “Is that what that was about?” She then turned and went to the car.

“Hey, wait. You can't leave me here. How am I supposed to get out of here? You can't leave me in this house with those men!”

“We're not going to,” Dawn explained. “I'm just making a point. Magic is real. Gwen and I got out because we were wearing amulets. The perimeter of the house is warded with, you know, magic. Nothing living can pass through the wards without the amulet, or the maker of the wards forming a door. I didn't make the wards, so it would have been too much for me to force a door in them, and Gwennie doesn't actually do magic for all that she can recognise it. But,” she added, as she removed the stolen necklace, “if you put this on, you can get through the wards.” Dawn tossed the necklace back through the doorway to Sam, who looked at it for a moment before putting it on. Gingerly, Sam approached the door, and, magically – she cringed at that thought – she passed through the door.

“What about those men?” Sam asked as they walked to the car. “Won't they be able to get out?”

“Well, first they have to untie themselves, and that could take a while. Then, they won't be able to get out of the house unless they have spare amulets, which I doubt they would have.”

“But you said they could make a door for themselves.”

“No, I said that the maker could make a door. That ward was professionally done, by someone with power and experience. Those idiots had money, but I don't think they have a lot of experience. Which makes the type of spell they were attempting even more dangerous than it might otherwise be.”

“Okay,” Sam decided, “setting reality aside for the moment, and saying that magic really does exist,” Gwen and Dawn both rolled their eyes, “what was the point of all of this?”

“Power,” Gwen replied, shifting the car into gear. “It's always power.”

“And blood! Blood is always there somewhere,” Dawn added.

“This is true. The fact is, they were going to use our blood to imbue them with power. And considering who they had as donors, they would have gotten the mother lode.” Gwen frowned at the thought, and shot a glance at Dawn.

Sam sat back, stunned. “Okay, let me see if I got this straight. Magic is real?”

“Yep.”

“They used magic to find us, and to keep us in the house?”

“Yep.”

“But they didn't use magic to grab us, did they?”

“Nope – tranquilliser darts. A lot easier to grab someone when they're all sleepy-bye-byes,” Dawn explained. Gwen just shook her head at the brunette's use of language.

“Okay, so they don't always use magic.”

“No,” Gwen agreed. “They're seem to still be more comfortable with mundane methods than magical, which is why I don't think they have a lot of experience. From what I know of the spell, though, you don't need a lot of experience, just the right ingredients.”

“Which we are?”

“Yep.”

“How? I mean, what makes us … good ingredients?”

“We are, each of us, powerful women. I know the essence of Dawn's and my power, but I'm curious about yours. You never did answer my question. Rank and branch?” she demanded.

Sam sighed. “I'm a Major in the US Air Force, but I'm on holidays at the moment.”

“What specialisation?”

“I'm a scientist. Astrophysics, actually.”

“Oh, man!” Dawn complained. “You mean we could have gotten out of that whole lecture? That just sucks.”

Gwen laughed. “Face it, Dawnie, you were fated to hear that lecture.”

“Okay, lost again.”

“You are Dr Sam Carter, right? You have a lecture scheduled for Friday afternoon, and we have tickets. And you can quit grumbling, Dawnie,” Gwen continued over the other girl's non-English-sounding mutterings, “because we are going.”

“So, Dr Sam Carter, your power lies in the fact that you have both mastered your field to the extent that you give lectures in foreign countries, and you have also managed to make your way up to the rank of Major in the Air Force. And not just paperwork. You have extensive field experience, don't you?”

“What do you mean?”

Dawn turn to study Sam in the back seat. “You do, don't you? You have that... air... about you. What's your experience?”

Sam shrugged. “I clocked up a hundred hours flying in enemy territory during the first Gulf War,” she confessed.

Gwen shook her head. “Maybe you did, but that's not what we see. What else?”

“What is this? I spy with my magical eye?”

“No, Sam, not at all. Thing is, we both have battlefield experience, and we can see the same thing in you. You've been shot at, up close and personal. We're just wondering where.”

Sam stared at them for a moment, then sighed. “It's classified.”

“Fair enough, then. We all have secrets. I'm heading back into Oxford. Where do you want me to drop you off?”

“Just like that? You're not going to pry?”

“Nope. I just wanted you to admit you had the experience. So... Where?”

Surprised, she named the hotel, and sat back. The shocks of the evening were finally getting to her, and she slumped in the seat trying to process what had happened until the car came to a halt.

“Here you are,” Gwen prompted.

“Oh, okay. Um... Thanks. For the rescue. All that. So, ah, I'll see you Friday?”

“We'll be there,” Gwen smiled. “Can't guarantee you'll see us, though.”

“What about the kidnappers? We can't just leave them there.”

“Don't worry. We'll deal with it. You go in and rest – you've had a long few days.”

“Okay. Well, goodbye then.”

Sam waited for the car to pull away, then entered the hotel.

Magic. Huh.


	5. Tidying Loose Ends

“Now what?”

They had dropped the scientist back at her hotel, ensuring to retrieve Gwen's weapon, and had driven off. “This is a mess,” Gwen growled. An American military scientist had been dropped arse first into their lives. Gwen knew about the military, they all did, but her father was ex-SAS, and a stubborn man at that. This woman was some ungodly mix of black-and-white science, and hard battlefield experience. Not someone Gwen wanted nosing around in their business. And she'd seen the looks the woman had given her. She had reminded Sam of someone and, knowing their luck, this was someone close, another nosy bastard to hone in on their world. Initiative Mark II, anyone?

“What's the time?” Gwen felt like she had been running since she woke up from the drugs, and she knew she wasn't in top form, and couldn't trust her usually accurate sense of time. At the moment, she wasn't even sure where her phone was, and she felt like she was about to crash. Maybe she should pull over and let Dawn drive. Yeah, that sounded like an excellent idea. Monty Burns strumming his fingers. Excellent.

Dawn glanced over to Gwen, frowning slightly. She then tapped the display above the stereo. “It's a little after one.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “Well, what do you know?”

“Okay,” Dawn decided. “How about the person _not_ recovering from drugs take over the driving? Where are we going?”

Gwen slid out of the driver's seat and named the hotel. Dawn found it fairly quickly, and managed to park the van on the street before walking Gwen up to her room. At this point, she was pretty sure she'd seen livelier zombies, but she was not saying anything about that. Gwen had an unfortunately accurate memory, and had picked up pointers from Xander on practical jokes and other retribution.

They got up to the room without incident, and Gwen went into the bedroom to change. Dawn sat down on the couch for a moment to wait.

~~~~~

“Are you sure you want to come back here?” Giles asked gently.

“Hell, yeah! They can't have taken her too far, and I need to be here to talk to the police. Will's coming in today, isn't she? A locator spell is going to be about the first thing I ask for.”

He stretched experimentally. Between the drug hangover and the bruises from hitting the concrete at full stretch he was feeling pretty rotten. It was after four in the morning, and his wife had been missing since around eleven last night. His friend had been missing for over twenty-four hours, and an American major/scientist had been missing another twenty-four hours beyond that. And he had no idea where they were, and he just wanted to curl up into a little ball and scream. Or, better yet, curl up beside his wife, and let her cool fingers run through his hair and comb away all his frustrations. Yeah, that would be perfect.

“You can try the couch, if you want. Better than driving back to London now,” Xander offered, opening the door.

“Sounds good to me,” Giles agreed. “Ah, Xander, did you leave the lights on last night?”

“No.” He looked around, suddenly tense, to see Dawn curled up on the couch. Wild hope surged, and he turned for the bedroom. He entered silently, so find Gwen sprawled on the bed. His hands itched to touch her, but he knew he could not. Not yet.

“Gwennie,” he called softly. She moved like fire. In one breath sprawled on the bed, before the next, standing, her hunting knife out and ready. She blinked, and the knife was discarded, and she was in his arms, melting into him.

“You're safe,” she murmured. “You're well.”

“I'm safe, I'm well,” he assured, grinning. Yet another reason to thank her disciplinarian father – no killer hugs from his Gwennie. After a moment, he pulled back and stroked back a stray lock of hair. “We do have a problem, though. There were witnesses. I've already spoken to the police.”

“Yeah. That is a complication. What do they know?”

“You, Dawn, and the doctor-major person you were going to see on Friday. Tranqs – they know you took three.”

She smirked as she nuzzled his neck. “I think he panicked when I didn't go down. You didn't see his face, did you?” She felt him shake his head. “He was horrified. I nearly reached him. I was less than a metre away when I lost consciousness.” She laughed. “And then I met them at the door when we were escaping. I think he about pissed himself.” She felt him tilt his head, questioning, so she looked up and smiled. “Oh, they left us to get something to eat. They had the place warded, so we couldn't get out, but they didn't even bother to tie us up. I don't think I've ever had to deal with such amateurs. Dawn is quite put out,” she chuckled.

“And the amateurs?”

“Tied up in their very nicely warded house, without the amulet keys. I'm pretty sure they're not going to be able to get out without help, and we took their phones. I didn't notice a landline, and didn't recover our phones, so there is a possibility of them calling up whoever built the wards, but that would be the only way for them to get out that I can see.”

Xander closed his eye. He just wanted to stand here, holding her. It was one of those perfect moments, and would end any moment, but he wanted to keep it for as long as possible. Then the door knocked. Yep, moment over.

“Xander, Gwen, is everything okay,” Giles called through the door.

“Yep,” Xander replied. “Conference time, I guess,” he muttered as he led Gwen out to the other room.

~~~~~

“DC Collins,” he answered. He frowned as he listened to the other party. “Uh, I'm afraid I'll have to clear this with someone higher than myself, Mr Giles. Is there a number I can reach you on?” He wrote a note. “Thank you, Mr Giles. I'll get back to you today, if possible.”

“What's going on?” his partner asked, worried.

“I'm not quite sure, but we may have just lost the case.”

“How the bloody hell did that happen?”

“Who knows? MI-bloody-6, some super secret spook squad? God, Himself, may not even know. I've got to talk to the Inspector on this one. Bloody hell!” he grumbled as he stalked off.

~~~~~

Sam reached out to kill the alarm, but it kept making noise. She looked around, and realised it was the phone, instead, and scowled at it for a moment before answering.

“Carter.” God! Was that her voice?

“Hey, Sam, it's Daniel. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Just...” How was she supposed to explain this? “Bad night.” Yeah, that would do.

“Must have been a late one. It's nearly lunch time. Want to join Jack and me for something to eat?”

“Ah, yeah. That sounds great. Just give me, um, half an hour to get decent?”

“Okay. Hey – what happened to your cell? We've been trying it, but it's not answering.”

“Oh, lost it. Yesterday.”

“Okay then. Well, we'll be downstairs.” Daniel paused for a moment, then continued. “Jack says he thinks there's a place that might sell real burgers, and he's kind of itching to get there.”

“Well, I'd better hurry then, hadn't I?”

She groaned as she got up off the bed. She looked down at her clothes, and decided that they could get tossed. Three days in the same outfit pretty much did it for her. Not to mention anything else that had happened. Kidnapped. By people using magic. Really? Magic. She rubbed her butt, remembering the hard floor. No, it had to be a shield. Something. No matter what that girl had said, magic wasn't real. There was no such thing. She lived her life by the laws of physics, and they made no provision for that. More than that, she battled things calling themselves gods, and they were no more than mortal beings using technology. That's all it was. Maybe she could get away with not mentioning it at all. That would be the best option. She considered it for a moment. She hadn't sensed any Goa'uld. Everyone had seemed human. They were determined it was magic. Could she take the coward's way out?

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the way to the shower, and noticed the necklace she still wore. Dawn had called it an amulet, but it looked like a polished black stone on a cord. There were some symbols etched onto the surface. She took it off to look at it properly. She thought they were runes, but it looked vaguely like it said 'hma'. If she were careful, she could probably get Daniel to translate it. Maybe if she said that she had picked it up on the street? That might work. Or, she could explain it all. Unexplained technology, kidnapping of a foreign national who was an important part of a highly sensitive military operation. The fallout from this could be incredible. She sighed, and set it aside. Shower now, think later.

~~~~~

“Okay, Carter, spill.”

Sam coughed. “Uh, what?”

“You've been nervous all through lunch. What's the deal?”

She rubbed the smooth stone pendant in her pocket. It was real, it had happened. Not really sure how to explain it, though. Deep breath. “I was kidnapped.”

There was a brief moment when both men tensed, almost exploding from their seats, but they forced themselves to be calm. “You got out,” Jack commented. “How?”

“Ah, yeah. Well, that's where it gets weird. They... uh, the other two women that were kidnapped with me... They insisted it was magic. The men that grabbed us, well, they used tranquilliser guns to actually abduct us, but when we got to the house, all the windows and doors were shielded. I don't know how, but we couldn't get through. Things could go through, but not us. Ah, there was definite air flow, and Dawn and I threw some bits of bread out of the window, but we couldn't get out. I couldn't even close the window – the latch was the other side of the shield. Dawn and Gwen said that it was warded, it was magic.”

“Magic.”

“Yes, Jack, magic. I didn't believe it, of course. Magic doesn't exist. But they had a spell book, and they could talk without talking, and they took necklaces off the kidnappers that let them walk straight out, but when I tried it was like walking straight into a brick wall. Then Dawn threw a necklace back at me, and I put it on, and the shield... ward... whatever it was... was gone. I went straight through, no problems.”

“Do you still have the necklace?” Daniel asked curiously.

“Oh, yes. It has something engraved on it, which I was wanting you to look at. It's runes, I think.”

Daniel looked at it, and grinned. “You're not going to believe this. It translates as 'key'. I guess you need the key to get out.”

Jack held out his hand for the amulet, and inspected it. “What do you think, Sam? It looks like a stone, but I can't see any kind of seam where it was put back together.”

“I guess it could have some kind of circuitry covered in some kind of stone-like polymer. Something like a proximity pass. But it's the actual shield technology that I'm having a problem with at the moment. And the idea that the three of us were kidnapped so that the men could use our blood to gain power. Gwen said that that was what the spell was for, and Dawn, the other woman, took her word for it. She seemed very accepting of it.”

“Did you get to see this 'spell'?”

“No. It had been ripped out of the book, and Gwen had to use her eidetic memory to know what had been on that page. And even as I'm saying that I can't believe I'm saying it.” She took a breath. “Oh, and the book was in Latin, anyway, which both of them seemed right at home with. Dawn even said it was easy.”

“What were they like? The women you were with?”

“Dawn seemed nice enough. A bit, um, scatty. Actually, she sounded like she was from California, and I don't just mean her accent. Gwen, the other one. Actually, she reminded me a lot of you. She was wearing a Glock when she was kidnapped in the middle of Oxford. She picked me for military with field experience. She took out the two kidnappers within minutes of them arriving back, and then tied them up without any help. Just so much about her reminded me of you, including gratuitous Simpsons references.” Daniel sniggered at that comment. “I kind of wanted to find out where she was from, because she would probably fit in with us. Apart from the whole magic-is-real thing she had going.”

Jack nodded, and thought about what Sam had revealed. “So do you think you could take us back to where you were held?”

She shook her head regretfully. “I was unconscious when they drove me there, and kind of zoned when Gwen drove back. Plus it was dark. It was in the country, maybe half an hour out of the city? And that's night driving. I'm sorry, Jack, but I have no idea where we were.”

“Plus, it's not exactly our turf,” Daniel reminded gently.

He sighed. “There's nothing we can do except write up a report when we get home. Good luck explaining this one.”

“Oh,” Sam jerked up in her seat. “They might be at my lecture.”

“Who? Dawn and Gwen?”

“Yes. They had planned to come to my lecture. Well, Gwen had planned to come, and was dragging Dawn along to listen.”

“Well, then. You give us their descriptions, and we'll see if we can have a little chat.”

~~~~~

“Well, that was a bust,” Jack complained as they wandered along the street. “Didn't see anyone even remotely like them. His gaze flicked around the well-lit street. Up ahead lounged a small group of disaffected-youth-of-today. Three women and one man. 'Lucky guy,' he thought for a moment. The girls were certainly eye-candy. All three wore tight black leather outfits, painted-on pants for two, and a tiny skirt for the brunette. He wondered how they could wear clothes like that. The girl in the skirt had a corset that looked like it would restrict breathing, not to mention the ridiculously high-heeled boots she was wearing. Compared to the women, the man looked very comfortably dressed. The pants may have looked like leather, but they also looked loose enough to move in, while the shirt was of a normal fit. Apart from the head-to-toe black, he looked almost normal. Except for the eye-patch. Is that what it took to get girls like that? A pirate motif?

The girl in the skirt sauntered? Slunk? Daniel couldn't quite figure out what to call it, but it was sinuous, and headed their way. Jet black hair fell around her face, framing it, almost falling into dark brown eyes. Her skin was pale, her eyes heavily lined black, and her lips had been painted blood-red. She walked straight up to Jack, and walked her fingers up his chest. She was mesmerising, he decided.

She spoke, looking up at Jack through her eyelashes, and Daniel felt himself blush as he choked with laughter.

“Danny, translation?” Jack demanded, worried.

“Oh, um, she's speaking French. She said you looked like a soldier, and wondered if you were, ah,” he blushed again, “as stiff as a soldier should be.”

The girl smirked up at Jack before turning to Sam. Sam's eyes widened, and she wanted to step back away from this strange woman, but felt compelled to stay in place. Delicate hands ran over her shoulders and along the neckline of her shirt, then fluttered up to touch her hair. She again spoke in French, and Sam darted a nervous look at Daniel to translate. “Oh, she thinks you need to relax. Take time out to explore the other sides of life.” Again the girl smirked and looked sideways up at Jack, before moving to Daniel. Reaching up, she twined a lock of hair around her fingers. She said something, then looked over shoulder back to her group. One final comment was uttered before she turned, and sauntered... slunk... swayed? back to her friends.

“Danny?”

“Oh. She likes my hair. But she prefers her pirate.”

They watched as she returned to her friends. The man pulled her close for a searing kiss. When they were done, he nodded to Jack, Sam and Daniel, then escorted his harem away. They blinked as if to shake off the brunette's lingering influence, then walked on in silence until they got to the restaurant.

Sam rubbed her shoulder. Something was bothering her, but she couldn't figure out what. She scratched under her shirt, and felt something. She pulled out a folded piece of paper and opened it.

“What's that?” Jack enquired.

“A note.” Sam looked around. “She must have slipped me a note when she was touching me.”

“The French girl?” Daniel confirmed.

“Yes. But I didn't even see anything. And I certainly didn't feel her do it.”

It was enough to send chills through all of them. “What does it say?” Jack demanded.

“Two things. The first is 'Clarke's Third Law,' while the second is 'More things in Heaven and Earth.'”

“What's Clarke's Third Law,” Jack asked.

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. It's from Arthur C Clarke, a writer of science fiction.”

They just stared at the note. This was going to be one hell of a report.


End file.
